A Puppet on a Lonely String
by Nayru Elric
Summary: The Keroro Platoon is infected with a strange concoction of Kururu's that strengthens the uneasiness in their hearts. All except one, anyway: Private Second Class Tamama. It's up to him to save them. But what trials await along the way, especially when every turn leads to a turbulent reminiscence from Tamama's past? (A story centered around Tamama with lots of KeroTama.)
1. Tamama's Task

Buried deep in the darkest bowels of the Keroro Platoon's secret base, a peculiar assortment of vials sat perfectly aligned on the counters of a dark lab room. A few of them bubbled and misted mysteriously; bright, translucent colors that glowed in the dimly-lit space. These vials were samples Sergeant Major Kururu had collected after the platoon's latest save of Planet Pekopon – the very planet the invaders had been assigned to conquer.

The Earth Dragon would have succeeded in draining every resource on Pekopon if not for the intervention of the Keroro Platoon. (And more like the intervention of Keroro, Fuyuki, Natsumi, and Momoka, since the rest of the platoon had been transformed into Dragon Warriors to protect the rebirth of the Earth Dragon.) After that close call, Kururu had made a point to gather DNA from Terara, the Earth Dragon's secondary, much less intimidating form after being defeated by Shion Drakon – the girl who had revived the great serpent in the first place. This was so Kururu could understand the chemical changes that had taken place in their bodies as best as possible, and be more prepared if something alike ever occurred again. (And to perhaps one day use in one of Keroro's reckless invasion plan operations – or save Pekopon from destruction for the ten-millionth time.)

But for the most part, Kururu gathered information purely to experiment with it, and make use of his findings in an invention of his. _What outlandish exploitations will surface by adding this to the mix? _he wondered, tipping one vial, end-up, into another – thick, silvery liquid into that of a tangy-orange and bubbling one. _"_Kuuukukuuu~" The vial of orange liquid foamed and turned a sherbet-green, bubbles no longer rising to the surface.

"Omoshiroi," Kururu commented quietly to himself, smirking. He suppressed another laugh, only a few high-pitched chortles escaping. Surely, he'd have to test this new concoction on his guinea pig (also known as Corporal Giroro).

Kururu slid the vial of green foam into a separate holder of its own, then carefully placed the set into a freezer chamber in the center of the dark lab. He turned around and grabbed the other vial sets from the counter, stowing them on the shelf below the first. Closing the glass-pane, his automatic lock activated and clicked into place. There. That was that. Time to go assemble the tape recordings of his next Natsumi video to sell on the spaceweb.

Finally, Kururu had mixed and received the exact reaction he'd been aiming for with the Terara DNA, but it'd taken months to perfect. Terara's DNA was a tricky thing, Kururu wouldn't deny. He still would have to test it out, and who knew what kind of kinks lay in the actual process of –?

Kururu came to a sudden halt, standing in the doorway of his dark laboratory. The light from the inner halls of the base cast his shadow into the room. Slowly, he turned around, glancing back at the vial of foamy, sherbet-green liquid in the freezer chamber. The light from the hall set a glare on his glasses.

The vial hadn't moved. Only a few bubbles puffed – on occasion – out of the top. Even still, Kururu watched it for another few moments.

He turned back around. "Ku~"

He shrugged. "Whatever."

Kururu continued to walk forward, and as he did, the door to the lab room snapped shut, sealing off all light to his lab.

Only the faint glow of the vibrantly-colored vials rested within.

* * *

**Tamama Presents: Tamama's task – de arimasu**

Tamama awoke that day just like any other: with a group of about half a dozen maids greeting him and tidying up his room; being ushered to join Momoka for breakfast (where he ordered cake, cookies, and anything else he could think of); then going off to find Keroro at the Hinatas'. Regardless of an invasion meeting taking place or not, Tamama always went over to hang out at the Hinata house. It wasn't like he wanted to spend the entire day at the Nishizawa Manor where, sure, he'd get snacks, games, and anything he wanted at his beck-and-call, but it always felt so _empty, _even with all the servants and guards Momoka had hired.

No, being at the Hinatas' was better. Things weren't nearly as formal, but aside from all that, most importantly, Tamama got to spend time with the love of his life, Sergeant Keroro.

And so, today Tamama climbed into Momoka's black limo without much thought to what stupid scheme his leader had in store for him that day – swinging his legs and humming to himself as Momoka seated herself across from him, the limo gradually rolling forward. Whatever Keroro did, Tamama would be happy to take part in it with him. As mentioned before, it was better than spending the day alone in the Nishizawa Manor.

Oh, he couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

Tamama burst into Keroro's room, raising one arm and beaming warmly. "Gunsou-san, I'm here, desu~!"

Silence.

No one was inside.

Tamama sighed, pouting at the floor. _All that enthusiasm for nothing, _he grumped, treading forth. At the wooden table that lay in the center of Keroro's room, he stopped. On it, one of Keroro's Gunpla models remained, unfinished, the pieces scattered all over the table and floor. "He must be in the control room, desu..." Tamama thought aloud, staring at the unfinished Gunpla. That was strange... usually nothing could tear Keroro away from finishing one of his Gunpla models.

Through the portal in the refrigerator, Tamama stood on the moving sidewalk that would bring him to the control room. As he passed through the halls, couldn't help but notice how quiet it was... or maybe it was just him?

When Tamama reached the doors to the control room, immediately, he sensed something was out of place. The lights down the opposite hall were all blinking or burned out, and on the doors Tamama saw dents and scratches. Leading from the hall, multi-colored gel trailed on the ground in huge, inky globs. The gel consisted of only four colors: sky-blue, a pungent yellow, brash red, and... leaf green.

Tamama gasped in horror, the lines around his eyes deepening in realization. He spun around and pounded frantically on the dented, scraped-up doors with both hands. "GUNSOU-SAN! GUNSOU-SAN!" he screamed, banging on the door until his fists were marred with bruises and scratches of their own and his voice was nothing but a hoarse rasp. Not a sound came from behind the doors, which would not open. Had one of Keroro's crazy invasion plans gone horribly wrong? Tamama _needed_ to know.

With a final hit on the door with his fist, Tamama gave up and sank to the floor, leaning against the dented metal. His throat clogged up. "N-no... he can't be... he can't be...!" The longer Tamama stared at the jagged gashes across the door, the heavier his chest weighted with worry.

_What kind of creature could create such a thing...? _he thought miserably. Of course he could name many. Every fowl space creature imaginable popped into his brain. Tamama feverishly shook his head, fending off the tears that threatened to roll down his face. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about anything. What could he do...? What _should_ he do, when he didn't even know what had happened...?

Behind the control room door, something shifted and let out muffled croak from inside.

Tamama sat up at once, pressing his hands against the crease of the two scratched-up metal doors. "Gunsou-san?!" Tamama called again, – weakly, his voice barely audible from his yelling earlier. But loud enough.

"T-Tamama...?"

_It _was_ him._ "Gunsou-san!" Tamama gasped happily. A tidal wave of relief rushed through his entire body, calming him. He let the tears seep out of his eyes, and a small grin spread his lips. Tamama wiped his face, trying not to let Keroro know how emotional hearing his voice had made him. "I'm so g-glad you're okay, desu..." he whispered, leaning forward so his forehead rested against the door.

"Tamama... you need to get out of here..."

"No, I'm staying right where I am! Are you hurt? I can get you out! I'll find a way to open the doors; I swear I will, desu!"

"N-no! Don't do that!"

Tamama had stood and prepared for a Tamama Impact to blast the doors, but stopped when he heard the sheer tension of Keroro's voice. "Wh-why not, des-ka?" he asked, perplexed.

"Be-because... I..."

"You what...?"

"I'm not exactly... myself at the moment."

Tamama's face strewed in confusion. "Huh?"

"Listen, Tamama, something... something happened to the entire platoon. One of Kururu Souchou's experiments went berserk and spread throughout the entire base and infected everyone. You have to get out of here before it affects you too."

_So it was Kururu, was it? _Tamama would have time to blast Kururu later. "Wh-what was the experiment, des-ka...?" Tamama asked hesitantly. Again, he glanced at the deep, menacing scratches on the doors. Maybe he didn't want to know...

"Kururu had gathered some of Terara's DNA and was making a mixture that would transform us halfway into dragons when..." Keroro trailed off, then let out a sharp yell.

Tamama's throat clenched, leaning close to the door again. "Gunsou-san?! Gunsou-san?! What's going –?!"

Tamama's breath cut short; he was interrupted by someone else who was inside there with Keroro.

"Ouji-sama!" he heard another voice call in desperation. "Ouji-sama! Ouji-sama! Ouji-samaaa!"

Tamama's worry vanished just like that. "_That woman,_" he hissed, eyes slanting in disgust. "Why isn't _she _affected by whatever's causing everyone else to transform into dragons, desu-ka?!" he fumed angrily, gritting his teeth.

Keroro's voice came through, panting hard. "Apparently Angols aren't affected by it." This was followed by some more yells from Keroro. Knocks and clashes resounded from inside. And skittering – the catch of claws on the walls.

Mois continued calling out "Ouji-sama!" but Tamama's shouting as Keroro thrashed around in the room drowned her out. "GUNSOU-SAN?!"

The roar overrode both Tamama's and Mois's screams. An ear-splitting, deep roar that shook him to his very core.

A dragon's roar.

Tamama slowly backed away from the door, his eyes wide. Mois kept calling things like, "Please calm down! Everything will be fine! Try to remember who you are!" but Tamama could only vaguely imagine what was going on inside.

He was shocked… and terrified.

Keroro... turned into a dragon? A mindless beast that would only cut down those who stood in its way… not the commander he usually knew…? Tamama couldn't stop his shaking...

A millennium of cluttered skittering and listening to Mois calming Keroro down later, Tamama was snapped out of his dreary thoughts once again by Keroro.

"Tamama! Tamama Nitou!"

"Ah?! Yes, Gunsou-san?!" Tamama stepped readily up to the door.

"I-I need your help..."

"With what, desu-ka...?"

Keroro spoke slowly. "The other platoon members... they're not... I don't know where they are... but they aren't themselves either..."

Tamama could already tell where this was going. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear it, even if the one ordering him to do so was Keroro. "What do you want me to do...?" he said apprehensively.

Keroro waited a really long time. "...There's a way to bring us all back to normal. By using the Kero Ball. Before he turned into a dragon, Kururu said he created a cop out by placing the Kero Ball into a platform in his lab."

Tamama had been right. He sucked a breath in through his nose, preparing himself for the challenge sure to come. "Where is the Kero Ball, des-ka?"

"Fuyuki's room... but I don't know where this lab of Kururu's is inside the base. Or where the other platoon members are. They were caught up in the mixture before me. I'm sure they've already transformed."

Keroro broke out into another fit of agonized yells and roaring, but all Tamama could think about was Mois, who was trapped in there with him. Alone. For however long it would take him to retrieve the Kero Ball and find that lab of Kururu's... Tamama thought of blasting down the door of the control room right then and there to separate Mois from Keroro... but what good would that be to anyone? By the sound of it, Keroro was already mostly-dragon. Who knew what he might do if released and fully transformed? Tamama would already have the other three platoon members to deal with...

More skittering from inside distracted Tamama. Mois calling for Keroro to calm down, remember who he was. Keroro calling back, assuring her with earnest that he wouldn't allow himself to forget.

Tamama felt himself trembling with rage. Unrelenting, unforgiving, irresistible revenge. But he clenched his fists and scrunched his eyes tightly shut. He would not let Keroro's quick thinking – by locking himself in the control room where he couldn't harm anyone – go to waste. He wouldn't. He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't.

_I won't! I won't! I won't! _Tamama echoed, willing his rage to be subdued. _I won't! I won't! I WON'T!_

Tamama turned away from the control room, his fingers digging into his palms. "I'll retrieve the Kero Ball from Fu-ki's room and turn everyone back to normal," Tamama alleged. He dashed down the hallway he'd come from, away from Keroro's and Mois's desperate yells. "I promise I will, Gunsou-san!"

Even if Keroro hadn't heard him and Mois was the only one there to comfort Keroro, try to keep him under control, Tamama wouldn't let it get to him. He wouldn't allow himself to.

He'd turn everyone back to normal, just as Keroro had requested. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

**New story officially started! Hope y'all 're interested~ I may put the other story I'm writing that's non-Sgt. Frog on hiatus in order to update this story more frequently. In case yah enjoy it! :D**

**Please be sure to tell meh whatcha think! Thanks~!**


	2. Tamama's Flashback

Dashing back through the refrigerator in Keroro's room, Tamama scrambled up the ladder to the main floor, passing Natsumi and Fuyuki sitting in the living room, and all the way up the central stairs of the Hinata house as quickly as possible. He reached Fuyuki's room with not a second to waste. Bursting through the door, he rushed to the drawer on the bottom left side of his desk where he knew Fuyuki kept the Kero Ball. He pawed swiftly through the supplies there – a couple notebooks, pens, and pencils, – and caught hold of the spherical body of the Kero Ball in no time, turning to leave out the still-open door. But someone stood in his way.

"Tamama, what are you doing with the Kero Ball?" Fuyuki asked concernedly – he could tell something was unusual about how fast Tamama had been about it.

Crap, what could Tamama tell him? That the Keroro Platoon was in trouble because of some weird concoction Kururu had invented? He might want to help, and end up being turned into a dragon too, just more for Tamama to worry about. Would Fuyuki really listen if Tamama told him to stay up here?

Natsumi tromped up the stairs behind Fuyuki. "Don't tell me you're trying to get away with some stupid invasion plan again," she snarled, hands planted firmly on her hips. "In _my_ house."

_I only wish I needed this for "some stupid invasion plan," _Tamama thought, clutching the Kero Ball in front of him with both hands. Only a third of their heights, he watched Natsumi and Fuyuki tentatively, unsure what he could tell them that would give him warrant to be in possession of the Kero Ball. Should he tell them the truth to what had happened to the platoon?

"Tamama," Fuyuki said again.

The seriousness of his tone caught Natsumi by surprise this time. She stopped glaring at Tamama, turning to Fuyuki. "What happened...? Is everything okay?"

_I have no choice now, _Tamama thought, sighing. He closed his eyes. _Fu-ki wouldn't believe anything else I told him. _"No, everything is not okay, desu," Tamama confessed – in a quiet voice.

At this, Fuyuki gasped, stepping forward. "Then, is everyone –!"

Tamama cut him off. "They're all right. But they aren't... they've been transformed into dragons. Kururu-senpai kept some DNA from Terara after the incident with Shion and the Earth Dragon without our knowing, and it ended up breaking loose and infecting everyone in the base. I wasn't there when it happened, so I haven't been infected."

The horror on Fuyuki's face grew more eminent with every word.

"Those idiots," Natsumi murmured, eyes wide, a hand going to her mouth in shock. "So at any time, we could be –?!"

"I don't know how it works on Pekoponians," Tamama interrupted, recalling how the concoction hadn't affected Mois – unfortunately. "But I wouldn't suggest going to the basement or the secret base to find out, desu." He suddenly wondered if maybe Mois should be the one doing the job if she was impervious to the virus, but realized she was still trapped in the control room with the probably now fully transformed Keroro, and letting her out would definitely result in Keroro's escape also. The will of a Dragon Warrior is absolute – Tamama knew that from when he'd been transformed himself.

Natsumi and Fuyuki remained silent for a very long time, processing everything Tamama had told them. What it could mean if the Keroro Platoon escaped from the basement and were let loose to the public. (After the Dragon Rings that had spread across the world with the Earth Dragon, they would have to think something was up. It'd cause a worldwide panic – the platoon wouldn't be allowed to live...)

"So then," Fuyuki started slowly, "you need the Kero Ball to –"

"To turn them back," Tamama answered breathlessly, full well knowing it wouldn't be easy – the fate of his entire platoon rested on his shoulders. "Gunsou-san said Kururu mentioned a cop-out to return everyone to normal if the Kero Ball was placed in a platform panel inside the lab he was experimenting with the DNA. That's why I need it."

After a moment, Natsumi shook her head with disbelief, crossing her arms. "There's no way you're that good of an actor. Or that Bokegaeru could come up with a story that convincing."

Fuyuki was hesitant on the matter. "But Tamama... you said the other platoon members are already transformed and down there. Who knows what they could do to you if they found you? Or what if the virus found you first? You could fail... and we would never know."

"This is the job I was instructed by Gunsou-san to do," Tamama muttered, staring at the varied, individual symbols on the buttons of the Kero Ball in his hands. His voice and body shook with his next words. "Gunsou-san was roaring and screaming when he explained everything to me. I knew how dangerous it would be when I told him I'd do it. I don't need you to tell me that. I can't turn back now. Not when I promised him, desu."

Fuyuki didn't budge. "Let me go down instead – you said you don't know how it affects Pekoponians! I'd rather take my chances than have you go down when you know for a fact that you could be turned into a dragon and have to fend off the members of your own platoon by yourself! There's got to be an easier way! I know there is!"

"No, Fu-ki," Tamama replied, completely calmly. "There's no way I could do that. Gunsou-san asked _me_ to do this. If you were faced with one of the other platoon members while trying to find Kururu's lab, – while no one's even sure where that is, – you wouldn't have any way of defending yourself. I've been trained for situations like this in the Keron Army. I'm better fit for the job compared to you."

Tears formed in the corners of Fuyuki's eyes. He hated hearing Tamama make all those points he did, especially since they were all true. He tried to convince Tamama one last time. "But –!"

"I won't change my mind!" Tamama shouted.

And with that, he ran underneath Fuyuki and Natsumi, back to the basement – where only defeat could await.

* * *

**Tamama Presents: Tamama's flashback – de arimasu**

The halls were silent and empty when Tamama returned to the base. At the entrance, the lights didn't blink; the moving sidewalks still worked. So then...

_The best place to start would be to try and follow the path of the infection so I can find Kururu's lab, _Tamama thought, thinking of the multicolored goop in the hallway just past the control room, rolling the Kero Ball in his hands,_ and put the Kero Ball on the panel platform without encountering anyone. _Butdoing that without getting infected or running into a transformed platoon member was near impossible. _Maybe I'll get lucky, _he hoped unsurely.

As he came upon the control room again, to the deep gashes on the doors and walls, the flickering-lighted hallway reappeared as well. It was dead silent in the control room, too. This made Tamama worried. Should he check up on Keroro – and Mois – before going on? They might have more information they could tell him...

Tamama stepped up to the door, lifting the flap of his hat and pressing his ear against it. Nope. Not a sound. Perhaps Keroro had already escaped from inside on his own...? Did Tamama dare knock?

_*Tok, tok.*_

Sure enough, the growling, skittering, then roaring that resounded across the halls was more ear-splitting than the last, made the entire base shudder – the walls, the floor, the doors, and Tamama himself.

He backed away from the door.

It was official, now. Keroro was a mindless beast.

Growls, roars, and skittering still emitting from within, Tamama trudged down the darkened hallway with the Kero Ball, maneuvering around the globs of green, red, blue, and yellow on the ground – and the other rubble from the scratches on the walls. _Mois, you better not let him escape, _Tamama thought, focusing on the dark hallway ahead, gripping the Kero Ball tightly.

From that point on, Tamama was on his own.

* * *

The inky, colored globs ceased to formulate a traceable path after reaching the more remote halls of the base, – just his luck, – halls anyone seldom used or went to, and Tamama had definitely never been. Past the weapons rooms that Taruru and Karara had broken into while trying to invade Pekopon, close to the garages of all of the platoon's MK machines and other battle suits, but deviating even a little farther from that.

Tamama found himself in a place that looked similar to Kururu's area, – entirely grey, with huge tubes running across the walls, ceiling, and ground, – and wondered if he'd just made a gigantic circle around the place. But he couldn't recall turning enough times. Didn't really matter anyway – he'd lost the path and was now wandering aimlessly about the base without any direction. And while he wandered, his mind wandered too, losing sight of his ultimate goal.

_That woman, _he garbled internally. _Locked up with Gunsou-san when it should be me. She's completely useless in a situation like this. She could be the one saving everyone, but instead she had to get herself locked up in a room with Gunsou-san, unable to leave in case he escapes when she does. _"What an idiot," he grumbled out loud, squinting at the ground.

The irritation in his attitude disappeared as a wave of sadness washed over his heart. "That woman," he mumbled again, for once without any hint of reproach in the way he said it, looking down at the Kero Ball. _She's always there when I'm not, _he thought sadly.

_It'd be no surprise if Keroro liked her more, _another side of him crooned in mockery.

_No, that's not true! _Tamama countered, closing his eyes. He was so startled by the tears that ran down his face, he halted where he was. The tears dripped off his chin and onto the Kero Ball. "Even after everything, Gunsou-san may never appreciate everything I try to do for him..." Tamama whispered.

He remembered what things had been like before they'd arrived on Pekopon. When it'd been announced Tamama would be a part of the Keroro Platoon. On Grand Star, meeting Keroro for the first time. When Tamama had wanted a genuine Keronian fig and ventured to get one from the booby-trap-rigged garden, Keroro going after him. Things had been so much more casual and sincere without Mois around.

"Before _that woman _was a part of our team," Tamama grumbled aloud once again, his anger returning.

How long did she plan on staying on Pekopon anyway? Wasn't it her job to destroy the planet? _She doesn't even have the guts for that. She should just leave in shame and never return._

What if she never left...? And Tamama was doomed to always be in her shadow...? Would Keroro, one day... choose her over him...? Would he remain completely forgotten? Would he always be second best to _her_?

"It's not fair," he called out, his tears overflowing. "It can't be... I've always... would he really just forget about me...?"

Tamama always tried to be there when he could. Though Keroro didn't know it, he'd always been there for Tamama when he'd needed a booster... when he'd felt there was no escape – when he'd felt close to giving up. Tamama only wanted... to convey such a feeling in return...

* * *

_Tamama had always been smaller than the other tadpoles his age, but he had not always been the strong-willed spirit he is today. He held himself, timid and reserved, his skin a light purple, – almost lilac, – and he never felt he fit in with those around him. That he was different in some way._

_He was pushed around all the time at school. Constantly, he was the butt of everyone's joke during class. Always something about how small and shy he was. They did it all in good fun so the teacher would take it as being endearing, but their comments weren't funny to Tamama at all. His unnatural responses to their teasing didn't help his case one bit – things like laughing it off, or joking (in a sarcastic tone) with them, trying to show them how ridiculous some of the things they said sounded. These were taken as encouragement of the teasing, however. Tamama found himself always on edge of the other tadpoles around him, wary whenever someone called his name._

_And one day, a group of tadpoles – the main ones usually doing the taunting – decided to take the bullying farther._

_It was six against one. They ganged up on him, cornered him against the fence in the school yard._

_"Hey, what're you doing with fancy stuff like that, Gaki?" asked an orange tadpole, one arm above Tamama against the chain-link fence – "gaki" being their name for Tamama, meaning "shorty" or "brat." The others – grey, blue, pink, red, and magenta – tadpoles chuckled, closing around him to block every escape._

_"M-my parents got them for me, desu," Tamama answered quietly, cowering underneath the orange tadpole's arm. (He was always sure to be polite to everyone – that's what his family had taught him. Though it's doubtful they would tell him to be polite even to his bullies.)_

_"These look too nice to be yours, Gaki," called out the bright red tadpole behind the one looming over Tamama._

_"Oi, Bakaka, let's hurry up and get this over with," said the magenta tadpole, bored – one of two girls in the group. "I don't wanna get caught by a teacher and stuck in detention for the fifth time this month. My parents will take away my video games."_

_Bakaka scoffed in annoyance, then tore Tamama's school supplies from his hands._

_Tamama reached for it, frantically sputtering, "W-wait, that's –!"_

_Tamama could only watch as his stuff was thrown on the ground and stomped on, Bakaka holding him against the fence so he didn't get any ideas – even if he had the willpower to do so, they knew he wouldn't be able to stop them. Any attempt made by Tamama to duck under Bakaka's arm and recover his stuff was pointless with so many against one. When he dared it, it only resulted in him being pushed back against the fence, slugged in the face._

_Eventually the bullies got bored and left him, but not before punching him a couple more times and completely destroying everything – including any safety Tamama had ever felt to have at school._

_When he ran home, hurrying to his room in tears, clutching his battered school supplies, his parents and older sister probed for what had happened, but Tamama wouldn't tell them. And he never spoke of it to anyone else, either._

_That's the way it stayed._

_For years._

* * *

Tamama heard a shift among the large, metal tubes above him. Brought out of his flashback, the Kero Ball vibrated in his palms, – something he wasn't used to, – and he looked up, seeing a dark shadow slinking around in the shadows of the tubes there.

"Who's there?!" Tamama demanded, switching the Kero Ball to be grasped in one hand rather than both, lowering it to his side. His other hand clenched into a fist as he tuned his senses upon the moving shadow near the ceiling. _That can't be one of the platoon members, _Tamama thought, assured. _It's too small to be a Dragon Warrior._

But the figure that leapt out from behind the shadows and onto the metal ground in the clearing – devoid of tubes – right in front of Tamama was no doubt a Keronian. And despite his wings, – despite the scaly guards on his forearms, the horns protruding from his head, and the thick, segmented tail swishing around him, – Tamama knew the creature facing him was, indeed, Lance Corporal Dororo. The sky-blue hue of his skin and ninja star designs on his belly and forehead was enough to confirm that.

And, by how he poised a lethally sharp katana serenely at Tamama in one hand, it was evident he wasn't the usual flower-loving, forgotten and traumatized lance corporal Tamama would have rather faced. His azure eyes were dead cold.

* * *

**WHOO! Drama and action ensues~! I can't wait to write the next chapter! Hope you liked this chapter too!**

**With summer coming, I'll be able to update so much. Yayy~~**

**Thanks for reading! Comments/thoughts are 10,000% appreciated!**


	3. Tamama's Struggle

Tamama wasn't lucky that day, apparently. Before him, stood the fully focused and transformed Lance Corporal Dororo.

Except something was off.

This transformation wasn't what Tamama had pictured – he'd been expecting the platoon to be full-sized Dragon Warriors like before. Had he misheard Keroro, or had Kururu done something wrong in his experiment?

Either way, he wasn't sure if facing a mutant-dragon form of Dororo or a full-sized Dragon Warrior would have been better. This Dororo was much smaller and more mobile than a Dragon Warrior would have been, but a Dragon Warrior was more powerful.

"Tamama Nitouhei," Dororo pronounced slowly – or, more as, the dragon form of Dororo in front of Tamama did. Dororo's voice sounded nothing like normal, – bold, even suave, – and this caught Tamama off-guard. "Do you honestly think you stand a chance against me? The Keroro Platoon's strongest member?"

Tamama blinked. Was this really happening? Dororo, talking like this?! "St-strongest member...?"

"That's right." Dragon Dororo laid his katana horizontal in front of him, stroking the blade with one hand. His wings and tail twitched as he touched the sharp metal. "I was always so traumatized from Keroro's stupid schemes that no one would ever guess I'm the strongest."

Tamama had to admit that Dororo was right about that one. He nodded hesitantly, but really he was searching for an escape – a way to dodge past Dororo and get out before anything happened.

"Don't even think about escaping," Dororo told Tamama, making him jump.

"H-how did you...?"

"I can read my opponents quite well," Dororo explained, probing the tip of his katana delicately.

Tamama sighed, closing his eyes. "I guess I have no choice but to fight you, then," he muttered, placing his hand – free of the Kero Ball – on his hip and smirking bitterly. He opened his eyes again, glaring at Dororo. "You sure you can't just let me pass, des-ka?"

Dororo chuckled in amusement – something else Tamama was surprised at hearing. "I'm afraid I can't do that. Being a Dragon Warrior is nice, you know? All this power without any drawbacks. I only must commit myself to my profession of assassination, and I'm honored to do so. Now," Dororo moved back in a fighting stance, blade held at full-length in front of him. "Koi!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Tamama egged on, his smirk growing wider.

Dororo charged with his sword.

* * *

**Tamama Presents: Tamama's struggle – de arimasu**

The fight was nothing at all how Tamama had anticipated.

He was rushed by Dororo over and over, never given a moment to think up a counterattack. Again and again, he was picked up and thrown onto the ground. Again and again, he was hit, out of breath, hurt. It happened so fast, he barely had any time to input a punch of his own. Any Tamama Impacts he blasted in – what he thought was – Dororo's direction missed him entirely, as he flew far out of the way, only to hit Tamama _again _and throw him onto the ground or against a wall.

_Dororo-senpai would never be this ruthless if he were himself, _Tamama realized, panting as he struggled to lift himself on his hands and knees. Dororo's attacks had halted for the time being. He wiped his chin with the back of his arm, the other still clutching the Kero Ball. _His brutality gives him an advantage in this fight. _Tamama glared up at Dororo, who was hovering – by the help of his wings – above Tamama, not a scratch on him.

"Why don't you toss that thing aside?" Dororo inquired, referring to the Kero Ball in Tamama's hand. "You'd be better off without it. Might even be able to get out of here alive."

"N-no." Tamama stood, legs shaking, and brought the Kero Ball to be held protectively in both hands, still glaring at Dragon Dororo. "I need to complete my mission so I can help my friends! There's no way I could do something like that, desu!"

Dragon Dororo chuckled, squinting his soft, blue eyes. "How admirable. You'd risk your life for your so-called 'friends,' but who's to say they feel the same about you?"

Tamama did his best not to let his glare at Dororo waver, but doubt had already been planted inside him – and not from Dororo. From his own thoughts. "Y-you're wrong!" he shouted.

Dororo continued, "Maybe, to them, you're like an annoying bug. Maybe they just put up with you to be nice. Because they have to. Like they did with me…" His voice and bold stance took on the shape of something more morose at the last sentence.

Tamama gasped as he thought of Keroro, always so readily accepting of Mois. Who never said a bad word against her. Who would always choose her over him…

"N-no… that can't be… that can't be true!" Tamama yelled desperately, stepping forward with the Kero Ball in his hands. But he was completely uprooted now. His former determination was gone.

"You know it as well as I do!" Dororo mocked. "You're nothing but the sidekick in the platoon!" Dororo swooped down and hit Tamama with a kick that knocked him into the wall. "JUST AS I WAS!"

Tamama sputtered and coughed as he tried to regain his breath, pieces of the metal tube he'd crashed into falling around him, on his hands and knees once again. The ground below him was fuzzy; his head rang from the impact. The Kero Ball was no longer in his grasp.

Dororo approached Tamama, knelt down in front of him. "We could be a strong team together, you know." He drew his sword near his side, and to Tamama's surprise, extended one hand. "What do you say?"

"Don't be stupid," Tamama spat at him from his position on the ground, spotting the Kero Ball only a few feet away.

Dororo chuckled. His extended hand stayed where it was. "Come on. Ultimate power? The feeling of being free of all ties you have with anybody?! Who would pass up such a chance? All you'll know is power. Overwhelming power. Forever.

"I know how it feels to be forgotten. I know how it feels to have all your good deeds – and bad ones – completely ignored. Who likes who or who's in control won't matter to you anymore. You'll only want to carry out your duty as a Keronian: to fight and invade. That's all."

Tamama stared at the sky blue hand extended down to him.

"Are you sure you don't want the power to achieve your only wish?"

Tamama inhaled a sharp breath at that. "My only… wish…?"

"That's right. The one to be with the person you love most. The only person you've ever loved."

Tamama's thoughts spun out of control. _Surely, he can't know something like that! There's no way…!_

But Tamama knew that if Dororo's mouth hadn't been covered by his ninja-assassin gear at that time, he would've sneered in knowing…

* * *

_Tamama's parents bought him new things, but Bakaka and his gang always trampled on them. No matter what Tamama did, it didn't matter to them. They always left him sobbing and broken. In the school yard. On the way home. In the lunch room, even, with other teachers and kids around._

_Years went by of his elementary school days like this._

_He'd always been ridiculed for being smaller, but when everyone started hitting their growth spurts – including Tamama – the other kids found something more embarrassing to tease Tamama about: his tarried tadpole tail._

_They joked that there was something wrong with him and he never "hit puberty." His number of bullies rose by the week. And they kept getting stronger and bolder with their torment: stepping on his tail, taking his food, destroying his property._

_It was enough to want to push him over the edge, but he kept as calm as possible through all of it; losing his cool was not something he had been taught by his parents when dealing with undesirables. Although his tail remained, his skin color, which had been a deep lilac-blue, darkened bluer and bluer each year – more than was normal._

_He'd go upstairs and lock himself in his room whenever he arrived home from school, – though his family tried to ask and console him about his troubles, – eating snacks and watching the latest cheesy romance on TV. Their attempts sounded half-assed and phony to him; they didn't know what it felt like. They never would. They'd all matured at the right speed and been the same size as everyone else. There was no way._

_His sister was the top of her class and the sports teams._

_His parents were on good terms with the officials and thought highly of in business._

_How could Tamama compare his puny struggles to them, when he was just an ordinary student with no special abilities, not even a sense of will to stand up to those around him? He shouldn't burden them with his pathetic problems…_

_And it just kept getting better._

_Soon enough, his parents announced that his mother was pregnant with twin boys._

_That was the last thing Tamama wanted. As much as he hated kids his age, he couldn't imagine coming home to two idiots who'd also harass him – ask why he was so small; annoy him when he wanted to be left alone; eat his snacks without receiving any kind of punishment. Being the youngest in the family had its perks, and Tamama didn't want those opportunities to just disappear._

_He raged at the news, his sister and parents trying to calm him down, reassure him it would be "all right," but it wasn't "all right." That's what they never seemed to understand: it was never "all right." And thanks to them, it never would be!_

_Well, a certain sum of months later, Tamama's mother gave birth to twin boys, and his life became a living hell._

All_ of his worst fears came true. They _did_ harass him and ask why he was smaller than other tadpoles his age, and they _did _bother him when he wanted to be left alone, and they _did _eat the snacks he was going to eat while watching his TV shows and receive no kind of punishment from their parents._

_His mother, father, and sister continued life as though nothing had changed, but Tamama's constant bickering between his twin brothers made him grumpy as he left for school each morning. And before he knew it, he was in middle school._

_His original stance of niceness faded more each day, – even to his teachers, – especially to his bullies. Tired from being kept up all night… unable to watch his favorite shows with snacks or peace… it was horrible._

_And one day... Tamama finally snapped…_

* * *

_"Tamama!"_

_"Tamama-kun!"_

_He groaned, his stomach churning. He closed his Keron Army-endorsed laptop in the middle of his recording on their latest invasion adventures in a bundle of blankets on his bedroom floor. _Not those two again, _he pleaded. To whom, he didn't know. His pleas were never answered._

_Two tadpoles clambered over each other through the threshold into Tamama's room, coming to stand on either side of him, where he lay on the ground with his closed laptop and many blankets. "What do you guys want, des-ka?" he asked venomously, guarding his laptop._

_"We wanna see what you're watching!"_

_"I'm watching something you guys wouldn't like," Tamama said defensively. "It's about the Keron Army."_

_"As long as it's not something like that show last time about the couple who –"_

_Tamama leapt out of his pile of blankets and silenced his brother by covering his hand over his mouth. "SHHH! Don't say that so loud, desu!"_

_As his brother squirmed to get out of Tamama's strong grasp, the other said, "We don't care, we wanna watch with you!"_

_Tamama smirked, letting go of the tadpole squirming in his arms. "Hmph. Yeah right. You guys wouldn't understand half of what they're –"_

_The twins opened the laptop, the program continuing to play before Tamama could finish his sentence, climbing under Tamama's blankets and getting comfortable._

_"Ooo this looks good~!"_

_"I know~!"_

_Tamama was stunned by their quickness. "H-hey! Wait a sec –! MOM!"_

_Heavier steps scaled the stairs and came into Tamama's room. "What is it? Oh, you two are in here bothering Tamama again? Can't you let them watch with you, dear?"_

_"No, mom! I'm watching something about the Keron Army! It isn't appropriate for them, desu!"_

_"Yeah it is!"_

_"We're fine!"_

_Tamama's mother viewed as her sons watched a huge space explosion on the screen with hungry eyes. "Eek! All right, you two have to leave Tamama alone."_

_"Eh?!"_

_"But, mom!"_

_Tamama smirked as his annoying twin brothers were dragged out the door by their mom. "It actually worked, desu," he commented to himself. He snapped out of his devious expression. "Ah! Better watch before they come back!" Tamama huddled back under the blankets, clicking "play" on the bottom of the screen._

_The Keron Army was showcasing their "Predicted Best New Invaders of the Century," and while it was fun watching the skills, past accomplishments, and interviews of all of them, there was one in particular that caught Tamama's eye._

_He was the son of the famed Demon Sergeant, but the two seemed nothing alike. Tamama had heard of the past endeavors of the Demon Sergeant, and he sounded more like a mass murderer than a hero. Ever since his son started coming on the shows, he seemed quite a lot more amiable, while still keeping the Demon Sergeant's energetic flare._

_Keroro's interview was at the end of the recording – as he was projected to be the most successful (if not more so) invader since his father, and they made a bigger deal out of him. The interviewer started with the usuals of "how's your family" and such, then got into the more specific questions like what Keroro planned to do when he got to his first mission and how he'd wipe out the dominant species there._

_"W-well I wouldn't say that we should wipe out the dominant species –" Keroro said._

_"Ah! If not, then how else would you rule the planet?!"_

_"We'd enslave everyone and use them as workers," he answered._

_"And if they revolt?"_

_"We'll kick some sense into them, of course! There's no way we would just allow them to defy us!"_

_"Brilliant! Then, let me ask you this, Keroro-san, what would you say to your new title as 'Invader of the Century'?"_

_Keroro chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I wouldn't give it all that much acclaim. There are plenty of other invaders who could outshine me. Only time will tell."_

_"He's so modest," Tamama whispered, fixed to the screen._

_"And you're being promoted to the rank of 'sergeant' right off the bat, is that right?"_

_Keroro nodded. "Yep, that's right."_

_"Obviously this is a little ways off, but once you've reached the age of invading, do you know who you'll bring with you as your personal platoon?"_

_Keroro nodded again. "I don't know for sure, but I can definitely say I have a strong idea for at least two of the members."_

_"May I ask for their names?"_

_He got a little flustered. "I-I probably shouldn't disclose the names for certain at this time."_

_"All right, then, I wish you luck in your training, Keroro-san. Or should I call you Keroro Gunsou-san?"_

_Keroro squinted his eyes, and rubbing his chin with one hand. "Maybe~!"_

_Keroro and the interviewer laughed._

_"Thank you for being here with us tonight, Keroro-san. And now, we bring you..."_

_"TAMAMA! IT'S TIME FOR DINNER!" yelled his dad._

_"BE RIGHT THERE, DESU!" Tamama yelled back, shutting his laptop and stuffing it in his bundle of blankets. Tamama muttered to himself as he descended the stairs. "Keroro Gunsou-san..." _He's really cool.

* * *

_The next day at school, Tamama was in no mood to be messed with._

_Not like his bullies cared or took notice, though._

_That was their own fault._

_"Looky here. We have a stray puppy." Bakaka the orange wonder was still the leader of Tamama's tormentors, – somehow, – but now there was a wide selection of older and younger kids around him, not just others who were also Tamama's age. All of them had lost their tadpole tails and white faces by now – not to mention they were still much taller than him. He'd stopped Tamama in the hallway as he rushed to lunch during their passing time, carrying his lunchbox._

_Tamama sighed. He was _not _in the mood for this today. "Bakaka, let me pass. I don't wanna cause you guys any trouble, desu."_

_Bakaka and the others whistled and whooped in astonishment. "Hey, now! Gaki thinks he can take us on!" He bent over to be in Tamama's face. "How 'bout it? You and me?"_

_Tamama stared at him with distaste, not saying anything._

_"See? I knew you wouldn't be brave enough. Why don't you just give that to us, and we'll be on our way, eh?" Bakaka extended his pudgy, orange hand down to Tamama, eyeing the lunchbox at his side._

_Any other day before this, Tamama would have handed it to them so he could be left alone, but today wasn't one of those days._

_He remembered Keroro Gunsou the night before, who'd said, "There's no way we would just allow them to defy us!" when asked by the interviewer about enslaving the other dominant species he'd come across._

I should be strong, too! _Tamama thought, clutching onto his lunchbox. _Like Keroro Gunsou-san! _He glared at Bakaka and the others. "No, I won't give it to you," he said. "You'll have to make me, desu."_

_"That can be arranged." Bakaka nodded to a couple upperclassmen behind him, who advanced on Tamama – who was already rethinking his act of defiance._

_Tamama cowered in their menacing presences, lunchbox between his hands. One of his oppressors swiped at the lunchbox, but Tamama fell on his back so he wouldn't get it. The other came up behind the first, and Tamama turned and ran._

_"Wha –?! GO AFTER HIM!" Bakaka screamed._

_His horde of followers obeyed._

_Tamama ran down the hallways until he turned a corner and found a bathroom. Quickly, he got into a stall and locked himself in, but unfortunately, his bullies had seen where he'd hidden._

_"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he heard Bakaka's voice croon._

_Tamama sat on the toilet with his legs scrunched up to his chest, trembling, clutching his lunchbox as he heard the storm of other feet shuffling around in the cramped bathroom space get closer. Tears formed in his eyes, and he wished he'd never refused Bakaka's demand to give him his food, but then... Tamama realized waiting for them to come was not something someone heroic would do. _Keroro Gunsou-san would never be this cowardly! _he thought. _I'm the one who got myself into this mess, so I have to get myself out of it too!

_Of his own accord, Tamama opened the stall door, his lunchbox still in his arms._

_"What are those, tears in your eyes?!" Bakaka laughed._

_"If you want it, come get it yourself!" Tamama called to Bakaka, ignoring his remark._

_Bakaka scoffed, beady eyes narrowing. The two large upperclassmen stepped forward to finish the job from before, but then Bakaka said, "All right, fine. Guys, I'll handle this." He walked forward, between the two upperclassmen, right up to Tamama. Honestly, they were about the same size – Tamama wasn't _that _much smaller than the others his age anymore._

_Bakaka grabbed the lunchbox and tried to rip it from Tamama's hands, but Tamama held onto it. Bakaka chuckled and tried again to take it from Tamama, but Tamama wouldn't let him – he held onto it with all his might._

_"Let! Go! You! Little! Freak!" Bakaka grunted, still trying to pull the lunchbox from Tamama's hands._

_Tamama did his best to keep ahold of it, but now that Bakaka was actually using his strength, it was hard. "No! Way!" Tamama grunted back._

_The others behind Bakaka watched, mouths ajar, not believing what they saw now – their leader going head to head with the victim who never once fought back before now._

_As Tamama and Bakaka pulled on the lunchbox at the same time, with all their might, it fell open and slipped out of their hands. Both of them fell on their backs, losing their grip. Its contents fell on the dirty bathroom floor, the lunchbox clattering on top._

_Tamama and Bakaka, still on their butts, stared at the open lunchbox, panting from their earlier struggle. Bakaka's followers did too._

_Then, as it hit him, the tears in Tamama's eyes leaked out of his eyes and rolled down his face. "My... my food..."_

_Everyone else was still too stunned to have a reaction, but something made way in Tamama's chest at that moment. Something sharper and heavier than the sadness he felt at his lost lunch. But duller than the jealousy he felt toward his brothers and sister for stealing all the attention and praise of his parents. It bulged and swam viciously inside of him, making him want to scream._

_He stood up, fists trembling, legs bent, glaring at Bakaka; everyone in the room watched Tamama with terrified expressions, but he didn't even notice them. He only noticed Bakaka. "_You destroyed my lunch,_" Tamama stated in a scratchy voice. Bakaka became more afraid by the second. "_I won't let you get away with that, desuuu~!_" he said, grinning with malice._

_Tamama wasn't sure how it happened himself, but suddenly the feeling in his chest became too unbearable to stomach, and he screamed something horrible as it exited out his mouth. There was a bright beam of light, which blinded him for a moment, and when he came back to his senses... the entire bathroom was destroyed._

* * *

Dragon Dororo's extended hand reminded Tamama precisely of that of Bakaka's extended hand to take his lunchbox all those years ago – asking him to abandon who he was or what he wanted and allow himself to be controlled.

He wouldn't do it.

Since that day, Tamama vowed to never allow other people to control him ever again – whether it be with fear or power. He slapped Dororo's hand away, picking up the Kero Ball as he stood.

"No, I won't join you as a Dragon Warrior, Dororo-senpai. You'll have to make me, desu," he said, repeating his words from that day.

Dororo narrowed his sky-blue eyes at Tamama, who watched him, no longer determined, but defiant and willful.

And as though he knew what Tamama was referring to with that reply, he recited Bakaka's answer: "That can be arranged."

* * *

**And thus the Tamama Impact is born!**

**I didn't include much description about the appearance of Tamama's brothers or family on purpose, just in case something else that's canon comes out and we get to see what they look like! (Though that's highly unlikely...)**

**Hope you liked this chapter, and please be sure to give me feedback on whatcha think! I'll get the next out ASAP~!**


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